Losing Hope and Letting Go

Can you believe this shit? Not only does my maker go running to his favorite bloodbag before coming to find his progeny, but he expects me to risk my existence to save her friends from Hep V vampires! Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against the people of Bon Temps, but I’m not willing to risk my existence just so my maker can look like a hero in Sookie’s eyes. I don’t get it; does her vagina have magical powers? It can’t just be about her blood or telepathy. My maker, Bill, Alcide, hell even Sam had all been panting after her at one time or another over the last few years. What is so special about this girl that everyone bends over backwards to gain her favor? If I spread my legs for my maker maybe he’ll pay attention to me. I’ve never been against the idea of having sex with my maker; in fact, I want it. No, I crave it! There is this part of me that wants to be connected to my maker in every way possible. It is an emotional, mental, and physical yearning, and that physical ache is settling as a deep throb between my legs. The ache is acute as I stare at my maker in his tight jeans and black leather jacket. Dear God, I want to rip the clothes from his body so I can feel his cock and fangs possess me! I feel it so desperately that I feel actual pain throughout my body. And it fucking pisses me off because I hate this asshole!

We are leaving Bill Compton’s house; all the others are crammed in the vehicles waiting to take them to Fangtasia. It’s a suicide mission and I want no part of it. Apparently neither does my dear, darling “sister”. She rolls her eyes and scoffs when Eric says we are going to Fangtasia. Pam tries to argue with our maker, but he ignores her to climb in the waiting vehicle to sit next to Sookie. There is no more room in that vehicle, so Pam and I are forced to one of the other waiting vehicles. Pam gestures impatiently for me to climb in and it takes everything in me to keep from sticking my tongue out at her. Pam is an annoying twat that thinks she is more important than she really is. This bitch abandoned her progeny, letting her meet her end thinking she was unloved and unwanted. I want nothing more than to scratch her eyes out and beat her to a bloody pulp. If Pam had stayed, then maybe Tara would still be here.

The ride to Fangtasia is tense and no one says a word. It is by far one of the most uncomfortable car rides I have ever experienced. Pam and I do everything possible to avoid looking at each other. Jason fidgets nervously with all the weapons he has with him, checking and re-checking his guns and ammunition. James, Keith, and Violet, stay quiet doing that creepy thing vampires do when they zone out. I know I’ve done it too, but it’s weird to see; they look like statues.

When we arrive at Fangtasia, Eric leads all of us around to the back of the building. I don’t understand what’s wrong with him; he seems winded, tired even, and he doesn’t have the strength to punch through a brick wall, something even I can do. Bill is the one to destroy the wall and Pam prevents Eric from going down the tunnel, saying he needs to conserve his strength. What the fuck is that about?

“Hey,” I say as I walk up behind my maker. “What the hell was that about?” I saw my maker singlehandedly destroy my father’s precious Vamp Camp. So what’s changed in six months’ time?

“It doesn’t concern you Willa,” Eric says trying to walk by me. I reach out to grab his arm, knowing he can brush me off easily. But when my fingers dig into his flesh, he jerks to a stop when I won’t let go. He tries to shrug me off, but I cling to him, wanting answers. I need to know what the hell is wrong.

Suddenly Eric turns and his jacket parts giving me a clear view of his chest. The inky black veins creep out of his shirt like ivy, ready to choke anything in its path. A sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, and my entire body seizes in pain. With a bitter burning taste in my mouth, I spit out, “You’re infected.” It is a statement of fact but a small part of me wants him to tell me I’m wrong, that he will be OK. Like a child, I want to cover my ears and close my eyes, chanting nonsense as if by going deaf, dumb, and blind I can refute the horrible truth in front of me.

“I am,” he says tiredly. I hear a small sob escape Sookie and my eyes fly to her. She’s covered her mouth with her hand and tears shimmer in her eyes. She turns around when she catches me staring at her, not wanting me to see how emotional she is.

Oh bitch, hell no!

You do not get to stand there saddened that my maker is days or weeks away from meeting his True Death. You do not get the right to shed tears of remorse that he is sick and weak. The only thing you should feel sorry about is that you aren’t the one riddled with this disease. Knowing what I do about the history between my maker and this bleeding heart makes me think SHE is the reason he left. Eric was devastated by the loss of Nora; I get that. But I think it was the loss of Sookie that affected him more. Had she been waiting with open arms to console him, he never would have left Louisiana. He would have stayed here where he would have been safe. And I might actually have gotten the chance to have a maker/child bond. Hell, Pam would never have left either, which means Tara might still be alive.

So the way I see it, all of this is Sookie’s fault!

If she thinks she is sad now, wait until she sees what I have planned for her.

***

Not even thirty minutes pass before every infected vampire, save Eric, is no more. The humans of Bon Temps are safe once again. Eric stares moodily at Sookie as she walks with her arms around Arlene in support as they walk to the vehicles waiting to take them home. Sookie maneuvers Arlene to the back of a waiting vehicle besides Sam’s pregnant girlfriend before climbing in the passenger seat beside Bill. She stares through the window at Eric. Their shared look is full of emotion: gratitude, love, loss, sadness, regret, and longing.

It makes me want to puke.

Not even twenty-four hours have passed since her “boyfriend” died, and she’s here acting all starry-eyed over Eric. It makes me sick. If she truly loved him, she wouldn’t have continually pushed him away. Even now she’s choosing to leave and not spend what precious little time he has left with him. Sookie doesn’t love Eric; I don’t think she loves anyone but herself.

The vehicle pulls away from Fangtasia, leaving Eric, Pam, and I to deal with the mess and subsequent fallout. Eric is the first to go inside, his every footstep an extreme effort for him. His steps fall heavily and unevenly, lacking his usual sense of style and grace. Pam and I watch his retreat, both of us in concert for once when it comes to the vampire that is our maker. No child wants to watch the health of their parent decline; see their body slowly decaying and failing to the inevitable. Death is almost welcome at that point because it signifies the end of their pain and suffering. You hope they are at peace wherever the next stage of their journey takes them.

“He doesn’t have long does he?” My voice is child-like as I stare at Eric’s imposing frame. He struggles to upright the chair that was his throne. He scrubs futilely at the blood covering its surface, but that repetitive action becomes too much before he collapses on his once majestic throne. Pam makes a pitiful sound as we watch Eric lean his head back against the top of the chair. If it weren’t for the flickers of pain across his face, I would think he had fainted.

“You would know better than I,” Pam complains bitterly. “You are still connected to him, so you can feel his pain. So tell me sister dear,” Pam says snidely, “how is he feeling? Can you tell what other symptoms he has? Trying to get information out of him is like trying to get a lion to go vegan. Pointless.”

For once, I do as my sister asks and I look inside myself where the hated bond with my maker rests. It has always lain dormant other than the few flickers of emotion I felt initially in our relationship. However, I have felt nothing from him since he left. Even when he is standing next to me, I feel nothing in our bond.

“You can’t feel him can you?” Pam smirks slightly though her eyes are exasperated. “Stubborn ass,” she says with a mixture of exasperation and love. “Always tries to shoulder the burden alone. Never shares his pain with those that are willing to help.” She pulls her cell phone out of her pocket, her fingers flying over the screen as she does whatever it is she needs. Pam returns the phone to her pocket and looks at me with irritation all over her heavily made up face. “Well don’t just stand there doing nothing. Grab a bucket and a mop. Start cleaning,” she says imperiously as she sashays inside the building.

I vamp after her, growling out, “Don’t you fucking order me around! I’m not your goddamn slave!”

“Wrong cupcake. As long as you’re still tethered to him,” she says pointing to Eric, “you are his to do whatever he wants, when he wants,” she says smugly. My fangs snap down and I inch closer to her, my hands curled, ready to scratch the skin from her perfectly coiffed body. We just battled a group of diseased vampires; smoke and fire were all around. How the fuck does she look like she just stepped off a runway? It doesn’t matter; I’m going to rip her fucking face off in a moment.

“STOP FIGHTING!” Eric’s labored breathing fills the silence after his scream. Pam stops because worry for Eric is her primary concern, while I stop because I feel the tingling throughout my body, signaling a maker’s command. I hate that Eric can bend me to his will so easily. I would have stopped fighting out of respect for him and his illness, but I wasn’t given the chance. It’s amazing how as a human I craved freedom, longing to be free of the ever watching gaze of my father and his political minions that watched my every move like a hawk. When Eric made me a vampire, I thought I would finally be free to exist as I wanted. But the only freedom I’ve ever had is because he allowed it through his indifference. I have never been free and I resent bitterly that I am Eric’s pawn.

“I have precious little time left on this earth, and I do not want to spend it listening to the petty squabbling of my children,” Eric says wearily with his eyes once again closed. He slides them open to stare at first Pam and then me. There is a marked difference in the way our maker stares at us. With Pam, it is clear that his blue eyes shin with warmth and affection, there is over a hundred years of shared memories that seem to flicker through his eyes in a matter of moments. When his gaze turns to me, there is no affection. I see guilt predominantly in his eyes and a sense of concern. I don’t know what I expected to see, but it hurts to know that my feelings, no matter how unwanted, outweigh his for me. I know Eric didn’t feel the pull to make either of his progeny, but why did Pam get the opportunity to form a bond with our maker and I didn’t? Timing really is everything.

Pam opens her mouth to protest Eric’s words, deny that we are going to lose our maker. Eric raises his hand to stop her. “Pam I am dying. You have to accept it.” Her eyes fill with blood tears and a sob escapes her before she is able to regain her composure.

“But before I go, we have unfinished business with Sarah Newlin. It is because of her that our bloodline has suffered. She needs to answer for her crimes,” Eric says darkly. “We are going to Dallas to start with her family. Pam, make the arrangements for us, all of us,” he says as his eyes include me.

“I’m not going with you to Dallas,” I say firmly. I have no issue with Eric and Pam wanting to kill my former wannabe step-monster, but I want no part of it. Don’t try to be one big happy family now because you’re dying and want to atone. If you weren’t dying, you wouldn’t even be here, and I would still be on my own.

I know Eric can force me to do whatever he wants, including going to Dallas. But my maker is a shrewd business man. I have something he wants, and he definitely has something I want. Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement.

***

For the first time in my existence as a vampire, I can say I feel tired. These last few hours have been especially taxing. When Pam had used her cell phone while we were watching Eric, it had been to text Ginger as well as an industrial cleaning crew. I may not like my sister, but I can admit she is efficient. As is the cleaning crew; the bar looks almost exactly like it did when Eric brought me here after my abduction. I am uncertain why Pam called Ginger. When I had met the blonde, overly glamoured woman, she hadn’t struck me as having the brain cells God gave an ant, though I will admit she is loyal to Pam and Eric. She had seemed truly overjoyed to see the two blond vampires, until she learned they were only passing through.

Now Ginger is pleading with Eric not to leave, begging him to take her with them. She’d even demanded that he fuck her when she first learned of his intentions to leave again. When Eric wouldn’t, gently explaining to her that he was diseased, Ginger hadn’t blinked an eye before pronouncing, “So the fuck am I.” Well that was awkward . . . and disgusting. Rolling my eyes, I step outside of Fangtasia. I take a deep breath, allowing the cool night air to fill my lungs and clear my head. There is an Anubis Airlines van pulling in the parking lot as I watch. Pam is beside me in a flash, an aggravated expression on her face. There goes my moment of peace and quiet.

“There’s only so much of Ginger’s whining I can take,” she says as explanation.

I nod absentmindedly, watching the Anubis employees park the vehicle and hustle out to retrieve two travel coffins from the back of the vehicle.

“Will you tell me when he’s gone?” My voice sounds child-like even to my ears. There is this hollow feeling inside me, making me feel numb. I am the one that asked to be freed from my maker in exchange for my knowledge about Sarah Newlin’s family, so why do I feel so bereft now that our connection has been terminated?

“Why do you care? You’re the one that asked to be free,” Pam says bitingly. “Our maker needs our help and you refuse to do it.”

“Never mind,” I say in irritation. I should have known she’d be a bitch about it; that’s truly the thing Pam is best at. She will not make me feel guilty for having Eric release me from our bond. It’s bad enough that I feel a nagging pain inside my body in the area around my heart where the connection to my maker once resided. How strange that I never really noticed it’s presence inside me before, but now that it is gone, it is the only thing I can focus on.

Eric comes out of Fangtasia with Ginger following close behind, still begging him to stay, to take her with him, and to fuck her all in the same breath. Eric ignores her to walk to me. I stiffen when he stands in front of me.

“I am sorry that I was not the maker you deserve to have,” he says so softly that it is difficult for me, the closest one to him to hear. “I am proud of the vampire you have become. You were born for this life Willa Burrell. I hope it is everything you want it to be.” Eric leans down to kiss my forehead as a father would his daughter. That hollow feeling burns painfully under this sign of affection. My throat feels raw and my eyes feel gritty. Before I can respond, Eric lets me go and climbs in the open coffin provided by Anubis. Ginger throws herself on top of Eric’s closed coffin, screaming and pleading to go with him. Pam has to glamour Ginger to stop so the Anubis employees can load his coffin in the van.

While they work to secure Eric’s traveling compartment, Pam climbs in the remaining coffin. Before she closes the lid, she turns to me with an inscrutable expression.

“For what it’s worth, I’m happy he turned you instead of the fairy. I’d hate to have to spend eternity knowing that the blood of my maker ran through that annoying twat. I regret nothing more than the night she walked in our lives. It would do the world a lot of good if someone drained her once and for all.” She closes the coffin lid and I watch as the Anubis employees load her coffin in the back of their vehicle. When the doors of the vehicle have closed, I vamp off in the remaining darkness of the night. Pam’s final words are turning over and over in my head. In the deepest, darkest recesses of my soul, I blame Sookie for all of this. If she had accepted Eric in her life, none of us would be in this predicament now. Why shouldn’t she suffer for what she’s done? And if there is an afterlife, well then Eric will have a little surprise waiting for him in Valhalla.

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10 Responses to Losing Hope and Letting Go

  1. Pingback: Why can’t I donate my sinuses to science? |

  2. lostinspace33 says:

    Ugh! I hate that Willa is so fucked up!

  3. Love it can’t wait for more

  4. cari1973 says:

    Willa, can you not see that Pam is manipulating you to do what she can not?

  5. Jackie69 says:

    It seems that Sookie has another enemy….
    If I were Sookie I would be very careful from now on…

  6. mom2goalies says:

    Sigh, I know Willow was abandoned by both Eric and Pam but shame on Pam for trying to get willow to do what she can’t/won’t.
    Poor Eric having to deal with all of them.

  7. baronessjai says:

    Damn Eric has to you get cured. .. then deal wit wayward ass willa. … that’s true fuckedupness see ya next chapter 😉

  8. valady1 says:

    Pam knows how to press Wila’s buttons doesn’t she? Let’s hope she doesn’t succeed in doing Sookie in before Eric gets back..

  9. ashmo2000 says:

    Pam is still Pam and I can’t stand that self entitled bitch. There’s more in life than you, Pam. Her last words to Willa was only to get Willa to do her dirty work, so she wouldn’t get blamed. I hope Eric heard all that.Willa has judgements and opinions on the whole Eric/Sookie story when she doesn’t have all the facts and why is that? Because Eric and Sookie don’t tell their personal business. I understand Willa needs someone to blame, but she needs to get the whole story before she places blame anywhere. Looks like no one cares how Eric feels about all this between one jealous childe and another one jilted he’s like the elderly parent who can no longer think for himself😒

  10. Pingback: Updates: 1-16-15 | SVM & TB Stories

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